


Insecurity

by belovedbey



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Cinnamon Roll Newt Scamander, M/M, Newt Provides, Original Percival Graves Needs a Hug, Original Percival Graves is Bad at Feelings, Smitten Original Percival Graves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 06:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17892851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedbey/pseuds/belovedbey
Summary: Why had Percival Graves been so distant lately?





	Insecurity

Percival gripped the porcelain sink before him, knuckles near white as his eyes bore into the reflection in the mirror, a wary man staring back in return. He’d never been so… _conscious_ about the signs of age present, but after growing an affection to a certain magizoologist and discovering that his feelings were mutual, he subconsciously began doubting himself in miniscule ways. At first, the decade and two years between the two men didn’t phase him whatsoever, but Newt was ethereal in his eyes, and he couldn’t begin to fathom why the angel of a man fancied a greying, frown-lined man twelve years his senior. Sighing, Percival stood up straight and released the cool edge, flexing his fingers due to the ache remaining from his tight grip and raising his right hand to the silver hair at his temple, expression resembling one of disdain. 

Leaning his head back, he could catch glimpse of Newt in their shared king-sized bed, face placid and auburn hair splayed against the white pillowcase beneath his head. If he narrowed his eyes and focused enough, he could begin to see the freckles that kissed every inch of his complexion. Due to his strenuous work schedule, it wasn’t unusual for him to wake prior to the redhead, so during the minutes before Newt awoke, Percival would just lay on his left side and admire the man that was his. It only became less enjoyable to him when he realised how youthful the man appeared compared to him; the only thing that was ever noticeable was the crinkle around his eyes whenever he smiled as he woke up to Percival’s gaze upon him, or simply while he tended to his creatures.

Being one of the rare days that he didn’t have work, Percival took one last sparing glance at the bathroom mirror before sleepily trudging from the room, socked feet scuffing against the bedroom carpet as he walked back to his bed, carefully slipping under the navy duvet so as not to wake his sleeping beauty. Moving himself over inch by inch, he positioned himself so that his face with in line with Newt’s, self-doubt practically melting away at the sight of the man who was hugging one of the pillows to his chest, a soft snore accompanying his breathing. He restrained the urge to brush a hand over the other’s cheek, or replace the pillow with himself, but he kept still in order to not wake him. These efforts didn’t matter though, for that was when Newt forced his sleepy eyes open and gifted him with his usual smile, eyes a shining blue and skin wrinkling at the corners. His breath was forced from his lungs. “Happy Birthday, baby,” were his first words to him, voice quiet and raspy.

Those three words had him crashing back to earth and he struggled to keep his face from falling as he managed a half smile, unable to meet Newt’s eyes. “Thank you.” The words sounded genuine enough, he supposed. 

Newt noticed, though, and his smile vanished as Percival fiddled with the blanket, refusing to look at him. He had begun to notice his lover becoming more and more reserved the longer they were together, even though it should’ve been happening the opposite way around. He normally ignored the growing concern within his gut, but now, as Percival retained his distant expression on his _birthday_ , he couldn’t go on like that any longer. “What’s wrong, Percy?” Stormy eyes met his, emotion rampant and swimming through them, but he still didn’t open his mouth. “Talk to me. What has gotten you upset lately?” He asked gently, caressing the side of the man’s face in the same way that Percy wanted to unknowingly do to him earlier. 

He momentarily leaned into the comforting touch, but shook himself from the trance Newt so easily put him under and shifted his body so that he laid on his back, face pointed toward the ceiling. “Do you… know how old I’m turning today?” He all of a sudden looked much more tired than he did moments before, noticeable even though he didn’t wake up all that long ago.

“Yes…” Newt answered, brows furrowed with confusion. “But what--”

“Why do you like me, Newt?” Genuinely concerned at where the conversation was going, Newt sat up and moved so that he was propped up on his elbows, face over Percival’s so that they made eye contact.

“What about you isn’t there to like, Percy? Or what do you think I don’t like about you?” His tone was soft and Percy wanted to lose himself in it; he wanted to surround himself in that silk and let the smooth material caress his rough skin, akin to the way his mother’s hugs engulfed him when he was child and rendered him calm even if he was in the most distraught condition. Before he could respond, realisation fluttered through Newt’s eyes. _Do you know how old I’m turning today?_ “Baby,” he started, in a near-whisper at his lover’s uncovered insecurity, “Do you think I care about your age?” 

The man’s silence answered the question for him. “Percy, I don’t care one bit about how old you are.”

Percival’s chest felt tight and he could only gaze up at Newt’s face, which was getting closer and closer until their lips met, making him release breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding. It was soft and unmoving, but the heavy beating of his heart thought otherwise. When the man above him pulled back, he kept his eyes closed, only moving when Newt laid down on his chest so that he could hold him closer. Newt, to his astonishment, began singing in a hushed voice that made his skin tingle and he only tightened his grip on the man as he listened to the words.

_And I am telling you_  
I'm not going  
You're the best man I'll ever know  
There's no way I can ever go 

“Thank you,” Percival breathed, eyes abnormally wet as he nuzzled his face into the mop of red hair that was tickling his chin. He could feel Newt’s hummed response vibrate against him. They remained in their position for about ten minutes before Newt slowly rose.

“I wanted this to wait until later, but I think you deserve your gift now. You have to come with me though.” Percival’s eyebrows rose, but Newt seemed to know what he was thinking again. “Yes, I got you a gift, and you’re coming to see it right now.” The man could only nod and rise after Newt, who grabbed onto his arm and pulled him up from the bed. The man could only view the magizoologist’s wide, excited grin with curiosity. What could he have gotten him? Newt grabbed his suitcase from where it was stationed next to the bed and after releasing his arm, the last thing he gave him was a backward glance before climbing down the ladder. Pursuing at a moderate pace, he met him at the bottom, his grip returning to his arm before leading him out of the workshed and out into the faux sunlight, warming the both of them. In the world outside, it was midway into January and a thick layer of snow coated the entire city, making the generated warmth refreshing even though Percival enjoyed the winter weather. 

Past all of the creature habitats they went, the both of them greeting all of the animals that acknowledged them in their passing, until they ended up in an area Percival couldn’t recall existing within the magically expanded suitcase a few days ago. Towering, dense trees spanned all the eye could see and the time within the setting had to be dusk, for it was dark enough to appear eerie but light enough to still be able to see. A new chill also situated around the both of them, their breaths rising from their mouths in small clouds of air, floating up and dissipating above their heads. “What is this, Newt?” Percival tried to ask, but the redhead turned to him and held a finger to his lips, indicating for him to be silent. On they trekked for a few metres before Newt stopped, Percival joining him at his side and swivelling his head around to see if he could catch sight of anything before looking back at Newt when the man began making a peculiar noise. The curiosity that bubbled up in his throat went ignored, not wanting to disturb the silence that was required of him. 

Nothing happened for a few empty minutes, but the sound of leaves crunching under a footfall had them both turning to something emerging from between the tree trunks to their left. The first thing he saw was a hoof, but as his eyes roamed upward, he released a silent gasp at the sight of the thestral foal nearing them. “Hey, girl,” Newt greeted, hushed as if speaking to a child, kneeling down to the ground and reaching out an inviting hand. Percival sank too, only watching with wide eyes as the creature gave its left wing--it’s only wing--a tousle and trotted forward a bit quicker, laying its head in Newt’s outstretched palm. “I found her in the Forbidden Forest during my trip to visit Professor Dumbledore a few weeks ago. I don’t know what happened prior, but as you can see she’s missing a wing.” An ache of sadness pinged within his heart as he could see the scarred flesh of the creature on the opposite side. “I helped stitch her back up and heal, but she’s in no condition to be released back in the wild. I remembered when you told me thestrals were your favourite magical creatures, so I thought you’d like to have one under your care. I haven’t named her yet.”

Percival could only shift his glances between the two ethereal beings, words abandoning him in the dust. Newt’s ears tinted a light pink at his silence, but he continued scratching the side of the thestral’s head, who seemed to be enjoying the touch. “Newt, she’s… _amazing. You’re_ amazing,” he finally spoke, making his entire face blush that time.

“Lift your hand up to her and let her come to you on her own,” Newt said, only smiling in response at Percival’s compliments. He complied, and he watched with breath held as the foal lifted her head away from Newt to offer him a curious glance. A minute passed before she slowly stepped forward, lightly nipping the tip of his index finger before butting her head against his hand. Releasing a shaky breath, he resumed what his lover had been doing while in pure awe of the gaunt, but beautiful creature in front of him, eyes shining at the emotional moment. “What do you want to name her?” Newt asked, watching their interaction with a smile so bright that it could rival the sun on its brightest days.

Breaking his gaze from the thestral, Percival stared right into Newt’s eyes as he answered with a smile of his own. “Artemis.” Newt was surprised at the man choosing his middle name to be the name of the creature, but he quickly got over it, a shier myself overtaking his bright one as his cheeks turned a delicate pink. “Artemis it is.”

And there the pair sat within the dense forest in Newt’s suitcase, laughter ringing through the trees as Artemis had nipped at Percival’s ear from him ceasing in his petting to give his attention to Newt. For the first time in a long while, Percival was happy with the person he would now proudly call the love of his life and the thestral who he would now give his undoubted care for. He would never let his insecurity rule over him again. 

_“Insecurity is a waste of time."  
\- Diane von Furstenburg_


End file.
